


The Shark Upon the Hill

by TheDarkMetalLady



Category: Gloryhammer (Band)
Genre: Crack, Drinking, Funny, Gen, Humor, I REGRET NOTHING, drunk Hoots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkMetalLady/pseuds/TheDarkMetalLady
Summary: The Prince of Fife decided to stop by Crail while out questing and learned about the wonderful bet contests Knights have when springtime rolls around.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Written in Galactic Stardust





	The Shark Upon the Hill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SmolSilverFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolSilverFox/gifts).



> Inspired by the bunch of idiots who were talking about this on Discord. You know who you are. 
> 
> I do not own the Gloryhammer characters. Please note that this story is about the _characters represented by the band_ and **not** about the band members themselves.

It was a nice and sunny day in Crail -- a rarity in the Kingdom of Scotland. The long and brutal winter had finally ended a few weeks back, and it appeared that nature was apologizing for the viciously cruel winter with some unusually pleasant weather (at least, until nature would inevitably decide that it had been too nice and that it was time for a wall-battering storm). 

Angus McFife, Lord of Fife and newly crowned Prince of Dundee, took full advantage of the weather. Since the defeat of the evil wizard Zargothrax and his coronation, he had found himself extremely busy with courtly matters, severely limiting the amount of time he had for questing. However, as soon as the ice melted and freezing to death was no longer as immediate a threat, he skedaddled out of Dundee fast as his unicorn would carry him, on the search for adventure. (Anything was better than needing to deal with dull lords who seemed to have iron poles perpetually up their arses.)

That was part of how he found himself on a small, unexpected visit to the mighty fortress of Crail. He hadn’t planned on visiting; however, when a group of bandits decided to attempt getting the jump on him, the ensuing battle caused heavy damage to his armor, which in turn meant he wouldn’t be able to continue his quest unless he got it fixed. Thankfully, he hadn’t been too far from the fortress, and he trusted that the smiths there would be more than capable of taking care of his armor well, especially compared to local smiths in other small towns. 

He had to admit, the surprise visit wasn’t as bad as he feared. Turned out, even the knights found reason to celebrate the end of winter, and so he managed to catch the warriors on what could be seen as a day off, by Cralian standards at least. 

After a few sparring matches against the knights (and being reminded of the knights’ reputation primarily thanks to his now-sore arse), Angus ended up joining the sparring group for some lunch in the fields near Crail. A sort of picnic, in a way. Ser Proletius, the Grandmaster of Crail and an old friend of House McFife, was seated directly on Angus’s left; Ser Ceana McFife, Angus’s older sister, was seated on Angus’s right. Others in attendance included knight master and champion archer Ser Maverick, knight master Ser Robert, and squire Sean (who was currently training and serving under Ser Robert). Overall, it was a good and jolly group, and Angus had no complaints, not even when the Hootsman himself stumbled over from Hoots-knows-where and sat down to join them, offering them all mead and clearly drunk despite it being only midday. 

After thoroughly questioning Angus on matters regarding questing and what it was like being a prince (which they all decided was boring and not something they’d ever want to do), the knights chatted amongst themselves. Angus was more than content to simply listen, eating the food he hadn’t been able to get at while being at the center of attention.

“Ser, who do you reckon will win the Shark-Hunting bet this year?” Sean asked his knight master. 

“Hard to say,” Maverick answered with a small, smug smirk before taking a swig of the drink he had been given by the Hootsman, despite not being the one the question had been targeted at. 

“Oh drop the fake humble act,” Robert commented with a roll of his eyes, “We all know your Aquilus brought in that great white last weekend, and the betting ends tomorrow.”

“You’re only annoyed because my Stormwing brought in that Megamouth and dropped your rank off the Top 3,” Ceana said with a smirk. 

“Is this a common thing?” Angus asked.

“Sharkhunt betting? Every year,” Hoots responded, then finished off the bottle he was holding and pulled out a new one from somewhere under his furs. “Always provides a good feast later.” He opened the new bottle with the blade of his battleaxe and downed half of it instantly.

“That reminds me: Ser, has Farcry returned from the hunt? It has been rather long,” Maverick asked, looking to the Grandmaster.

At that moment, the cry of an eagle was heard from the skies of the distant horizon.

“Not yet, though she will be back soon, I reckon,” Proletius replied, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Don’t have an entry in the contest yet, Ser?” Robert asked, a bit confused. “You usually are among the first.”

“Not yet this year, no,” Proletius said with a shrug. 

The conversation abruptly paused and then shifted topics when the Hootsman managed to spill his drink all over Angus while gesturing wildly. (Mysteriously, not a single drop got onto Ser Proletius or any of the other knights.) The topic of giant eagles and shark-hunting and betting was temporarily forgotten.

At one point, the cries from overhead were getting louder, though no one paid them any mind. 

What the group did notice, however, was when a mysterious shadow suddenly blocked out the sun. They looked up and saw…

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Squire Sean exclaimed while grabbing his food and scrambling to his feet and running several meters back, the knight masters Robert and Maverick following Sean’s lead. Ceana didn’t need to move due to not being in the danger zone for being crushed, though she was on high alert.

Angus’s jaw dropped as a large, massive fish was placed down two feet away from them, on the spot where the three knights had been sitting previously. Everyone was watching this in shock, bar Ser Proletius and the Hootsman, the former of whom was calmly eating his food and the latter of whom was clearly too drunk to have noticed the change in their surroundings. 

Ser Proletius picked up what was left of his food. He whistled, and then tossed the food up. Just as it reached the top of its trajectory arc, the food was ripped out of the sky by a giant and fiendishly sharp eagle beak. The eagle in question perched upon her catch and cawed proudly, spreading her wings. 

“Hey Farcry,” Proletius greeted nonchalantly. “Had a good hunt?”

The eagle answered back with another caw, and the grandmaster and his mount had a small conversation in similar style. 

It took a few minutes for any of the others to regain their bearings. Maverick was arguably first, whispering something in a language that didn’t sound like anything familiar to these regions. 

Next to react was Prince Angus himself, who turned to Proletius. “Ser Proletius? Pardon my unicorn latin, but  _ what the fuck is that _ .”

“I believe that is a whale shark, your highness,” the Grandmaster of Crail answered nonchalantly. 

“I…” Angus was speechless.

Ceana patted Ser Maverick’s back a few times. “This is fate’s payback for being smug earlier.”

Maverick cursed under his breath. 

At that moment, the Hootsman seemed to finally notice that something was amiss. He looked around, confusion evident on his face. “Hey, Old Baldie… since when is there a hill here? Did I fall down it?”

Somehow, all of this still made more sense to Angus than formal court procedures. 

**Author's Note:**

> This work was beta-read by [Lavender_Persimmon305](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Persimmon305/pseuds/Lavender_Persimmon305) (Tumblr: [tellmeoflegends](https://tellmeoflegends.tumblr.com/)).


End file.
